


Tales of Hope County

by darthbrooks



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood and Violence, Branding, Bunker Ending (Far Cry), Deputy doesn't become Judge, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual New Dawn follow-up, F/M, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sadism, Slow Burn, Smut, Someone else does, Torture, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthbrooks/pseuds/darthbrooks
Summary: Adrianna has lost lots of friends to Eden's Gate. Her friend Rachel has become a drug-laden maniac, and her friend Jordan is shacked up the cult's most sadistic psychopath, John Seed. When shit hits the fan and Hope County is left to fend for itself, Adrianna is caught in a never ending game of cat-and-mouse with charismatic cult leader Joseph Seed. But maybe a part of her *wants* to be caught...
Relationships: John Seed/Original Male Character(s), Joseph Seed/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Only You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is another self-insert for my friend and I that I've decided to share here. Enjoy!

Panting hard, rubbing her eyes, fumbling with the safety on her handgun—she winced as she palmed at the tender skin around her temple, still singed from the fire of the helicopter crash. She blinked the dirt out of her eyes, peaking around from behind the tree she was hunched against, watching a Peggy open the door to a stopped tractor-trailer on the road. The headlights blazed ahead into the forest where the truck had swerved and stopped—two of the tires shot out.

Adrianna breathed heavily, her chest heaving as she panted and drew her handgun up. Quickly and quietly, she moved up the road, staying low. She could hear the sound of a struggle as the straggly-haired cultist wrestled with the truck driver.

_BANG._

It was her first kill. Her heart lurched in her chest as the cultist sloughed off the side of the trailer and fell to the pavement with a thump. After a moment, she hoisted herself up onto the step. The driver was dead—blood trailing from a hole in his head down the leather seat. She leaned over the corpse, fumbling with the ham radio mounted on the dash.

Her fingers were cold as she fumbled with the knobs, browsing stations, hearing nothing but static.

“Come on, come on.”

She muttered frantically as she tried to patch through—to the police, to the god damn National Guard, to _anyone_ at all.

“Hello?” she said into the radio, “Anyone?”

Just more static. Damned Peggies must have jammed the radio waves.

“Fuck,” Adrianna hissed, pressing the radio into her forehead in frustration, until finally a hint of something patched through.

“Hey, copy. Copy,” a young woman’s voice came through, “Who’s this?”

Adrianna was about to answer, but hesitated. She remembered what had happened in the helicopter. With the dispatcher. Fucking sell-out.

“You first,” Adrianna said, “How do I know you’re not a fucking Peggy?”

“Because I got five dead Peggies in a heap around me,” voice responded, “With _my_ arrows in ‘em. Name’s Jess Black.”

“Jess, this is Junior Deputy Adrianna Perce, Hope County Sherrif’s Department. I just escaped Joseph Seed’s compound. We went to arrest him—we had a federal warrant on the bastard and he _still_ got away.” Her voice became pressed as it all rushed through her mind again—the flames, the helicopter blades slicing against the trees, Joseph’s eyes taunting her in the firelight.

“I’m at the Baron Lumber Mill,” Jess said, “North of the compound, take the right at the gas station. Peggies have the place surrounded, I’m not gonna be able to hold them off for much longer.”

Adrianna weighed her options. The other deputies, the sheriff, and the marshal had been whisked away to God only knew where. She cocked her weapon.

“I’m on my way.”

Shells fell to the ground as Jordan cocked the shotgun, echoing off the walls of the farmhouse. The resident couple were huddled against the wall, hands up.

“Let’s try again,” Jordan said, “You can give up the farm peacefully and join our family, or we can drag you to Eden’s Gate in chains.”

The farmwife was crying, but mustered a spiteful jab. “Fuck you.”

“Hm,” Jordan nodded. Quickly, he cocked the shotgun and fired it into the wall, both of the hostages covering their ears as drywall crumbled on top of them from the hole blown in the wall. “Wanna reconsider?”

“You think you can just take whatever you want,” the farmer said, “But you can’t.”

“Well of course _I_ can’t,” Jordan responded, “But it’s not for me. It’s for _him_.”

The couple looked up as a figure stepped into the doorframe in a long overcoat. A sinister smile spread over Jordan’s face as he watched the farmers look up in fear as John Seed entered the home. He circled behind Jordan, running his hand along the back of his shoulders.

“All it takes is one word,” John told the farmers, before kneeling in front of them, relishing in the fear in their eyes, “Just. Say. Yes.”

“I’d rather burn this place to the ground than give it to you,” the farmer spat.

John stood up, snickering a little as he put a hand in the air, waving his index fingers and summoning in two cultists with canisters of gasoline. “That can be arranged.” John motioned to Jordan who helped him tie the farmers’ hands behind their back, face down in the floor, breathing in gasoline as it spread across the room.

The cultists finished making their rounds and John took one last look at the hostages, shrugging and clicking his tongue. “Should’ve said yes.”

Jordan held the door open for him as they left—Jordan striking a match and throwing it behind him, listening to the clean whoosh of flame spreading across the farmhouse.

John took post in the front yard, letting the flames flicker in his eyes as Jordan came behind him and laid his head on John’s shoulder, listening to the last pleas for help coming from within the burning home.

As the flames crackled louder, Jordan placed a hand on the side of John’s face and guided him into a kiss.

“I didn’t know where you were,” Jordan said, “After Joseph was taken—”

“We’re fine,” John assured, “Everything happened as he said it would.”

“I was worried,” Jordan responded, “We all saw that chopper go down—”

“You doubted him?”

“I was _scared_ , John. For the Father. For you.”

“There will be enough to atone for before the Collapse,” John said, “Don’t let doubt be one more sin.”

“Okay,” Jordan smiled at him, watching the firelight dance across his face. “What about the sheriff and his people? And the marshal.”

“Faith has the marshal. Jacob and I each have one of the deputies. The sheriff and the other deputy—the rookie—got away.”

Jordan’s heart sank. “Damn.”

“I know you wanted to see her brought to Eden’s Gate,” John said, almost teasing him, trying to get a rise.

“Where is she now?” Jordan asked eagerly.

“Last spotted her headed north, into the Whitetails,” John said, “Jacob is trying to put together a hunting party.”

“Let him know I’ll find her,” Jordan said resolutely, “I’m driving up there.”

“Jordan—”

“Please, John,” Jordan grabbed his hands, “Let me do this. This is personal.”

John rubbed circles into Jordan’s hands with his thumbs. “You’re being driven by Wrath,” John said.

“I’m not,” Jordan told him, “Consider this an atonement.”

“For you or for her?”

Jordan secured his rifle over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

It was still dark out—it must have been around 4 AM by then. Jess lugged a downed Peggy through a muddy alleyway between rows of cages.

“They were gonna use this place to keep prisoners,” she said, “It’s fucking sick.”

“They’ve taken over the whole fucking county,” Adrianna said breathlessly, “They were working on it for months, right under our noses.”

“They’re going to want this place back,” Jess said, “They won’t give up that easy.”

“We’ll be waiting for them,” Adrianna responded, “Where’d you come from, anyway? Where’s your family?”

Jess gazed blankly at the ground. “Peggies killed my people,” she said, “Now I’m going to return the favor.”

Adrianna looked at her sadly. “You should get some rest,” she said, “We’ll move out in the morning. I’ll keep watch.”

Adrianna sat up in the hunting blind, watching the first hints of sunrise arise over the river to the south. Silhouetted against the pink dawn was the enormous statue of Joseph Seed on top of Angel’s Peak—gazing out across the river into the valley. Her cigarette dangled from her fingers and she exhaled through her bottom teeth as she looked at it spitefully—at the man who had plunged her home into chaos.

There was something she couldn’t shake about him. His intense eyes. The way he had offered his hands for her to cuff him. His final words to her before being taken away.

_God will not let you take me._

And he didn’t. Even as the helicopter was being wrestled from the sky by his followers, Joseph Seed was softly humming _Amazing Grace_ amidst the chaos.

He seemed so confident that he would get out of it. But the craziest part was— _he was right._

In the silence of the early morning, her radio crackled.

“Seems there’s still a snake loose in the garden.”

Adrianna’s blood ran cold. She thought she recognized the voice but—it couldn’t be.

“Who is this?” she demanded.

“Don’t act like you’ve forgotten me,” Jordan said through the radio, “You think you’re a hero for standing against us, but you’re not. But you’ll join us soon enough.”

“I don’t think so.”

“That’s okay,” Jordan responded, “We’ll come to you.”

Adrianna felt a sense of dread rise from her core, and heard a whooshing sound before the arrow lodged itself in her shoulder—her vision going red as she slumped and fell from the hunting blind.

Her eyes glazed open, her vision coming into view. It was a dingy room—musty red carpets surrounded by peeling grey walls. Two hostages were tied to chairs in front of her, watching a slide show that flickered across the wall—images of wolves with entrails hanging from their jowls, and deer slaughtered and gutted on the forest floor.

Just as she began to move, two hands came and secured her arms to the armrests with zip-ties. She was face to face with Jordan, looking at her with an indiscernible mix of amusement and pity in the flickering light.

“You should have run while you had the chance,” he told her, the shade of a smirk crossing the corner of his mouth.

Jordan looked alertly to the far corner of the room, standing at attention and retreating over towards the wall, his hands folded in front of him.

“The world is weak,” a gruff voice drifted through the stale air as Jacob Seed strode into the light of the projector, his old army fatigues hanging off of his broad shoulders, “We have forgotten what it is to be strong. You know—our heroes used to be gods,” he turned pointedly towards Adrianna, “And now our heroes are godless. Weak. Feeble.” He began to step towards her, Adrianna clenching her jaw. “We let the weak dictate to the powerful and we are surprised to find ourselves… adrift.”

Adrianna glowered at him. “Let. Me. Go.”

“You will be freed,” Jacob told her, eyeing her as he ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, “It is just a matter of _how—_ as a hero, or as a coward?”

“You’re the coward,” Adrianna insisted, “These people are innocent. They didn’t ask to be forced into your insane cult.”

Jacob shook his head, laughing a little, the light of the projector harshly illuminating his rough face. “Don’t you see, whelp?” he mocked, “I’m trying to help you. Because when the Collapse comes—only the strong survive.”

“And _you_ get to decide who’s strong?”

“I have a knack for it,” Jacob shrugged, “I’m just here to cull the herd. And guess what—” he leaned in, his hot breath on her face, “So are you.” He removed a music box from his pocket, winding it up as it began the strains of an old familiar song.

The lighting went red, the other hostages rose and faced her. Adrianna’s eyes darted to a revolver on the table—picking it up and instinctively shooting the two others. They disintegrated as soon as she hit them, and she moved to the open door of the room.

At the end of the hallway, Jordan was standing, hands in his pocket, rueful grin on his face.

“Good,” he said, “Cull the herd.”

“Fuck you.” She fired on him, point blank, but he just dissolved like the others.

“You’re a fighter,” his voice echoed from somewhere unseen, “You belong here. With the strong.”

“I belong fighting _you._ ”

“Your Pride will be your downfall,” Jordan said—Adrianna continued on, dispensing targets as they came at her, “Surrender to your baser instincts. Train. Hunt. Kill. Sacrifice.”

“Coming from _you_ ,” Adrianna said, “You can’t pretend to be a crusader, hiding behind John Seed all the time.”

“The Seeds took me in,” Jordan said, “All of them. Jacob purged me of my weaknesses, turned me into a soldier.”

“Brainwashed you,” Adrianna turned a corner, her handgun rounding it before she did, shooting an oncoming hostage in the chest, “None of this is real.”

“It’s _very_ real,” Jordan said, “I don’t want to hurt you. I know you’re better than that. You _belong_ here. I wouldn’t be trying to save you if you didn’t.”

“You’d kill me if you had the chance,” Adrianna spat back—exiting the hallway into a surreal courtyard—the Veterans Home looming in front of her.

“Adrianna, I’m trying to save you out of love,” Jordan said, his tone shifting, “The Father commands us to love all of his children.”

“I don’t belong to him.”

“Not yet.”

Adrianna killed the last target, just before her vision went black again—blinking her eyes to find herself in the same room she started in, the projector still going. Jordan stood in the light of it, looking down at her—Jacob standing by him, arms crossed.

“Good,” Jordan said, “Again.”

Everything hurt. It was hard to swallow. She weakly lifted her face off of the dirt floor of her cage. Jacob was hunched just outside over a stool, his blue eyes watching her intently as he slung back a canteen of water. She looked thirstily as the water dribbled down his beard, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. He screwed the cap on before throwing it to her through the bars of the cage. Her hands scrambled to pick it up before chugging it, finally quenching her dry throat.

“You know,” Jacob said, “If it were up to me, you’d be dead by now. But he saw something in you. I don’t know what. But he wanted to tell you himself.”

Adrianna looked in confusion at him, but her eyes went wide as another figure came behind Jacob, placing a hand on his shoulder. Joseph Seed was slimmer than his older brother, and cleaner in his pressed back vest and white shirt. His blue eyes burned intensely even under his translucent aviators. He and his brother pressed their foreheads together, and Jacob then moved aside for Joseph to approach the cage.

Adrianna stood, her chest heaving with rage as she glared at the man who had started it all. Joseph grabbed the rungs of the cage from the outside.

“I know you’re hurting,” he said.

“Stay away from me,” Adrianna muttered through gritted teeth.

“I am not your enemy,” Joseph said calmly, “God tests us all. I understand what you’re going through.”

“You know _nothing_ about me,” Adrianna said.

“God told me about you,” Joseph said, “I know your fears. Your doubts. Your sins—” he leaned in close, almost whispering, “ _Your desires._ ”

Adrianna’s heart was beating fast. “I desire your head on a pike, that’s what I desire.”

Joseph sighed, looking at her sadly. “God has put fear into you,” he said, “I can free you.”

“I can free myself just fine, thank you,” she retorted.

“I know,” Joseph said, “And that’s why I’m letting you go.”

Adrianna was shocked for a moment. Jacob looked on from the background, an eyebrow cocked—as if remiss to go along with the plan. But this was the will of the Father.

“I’m not going to roll over,” she said, “Not just because you’re showing me mercy. It won’t change my mind.”

“I know,” Joseph said again, “Only you can choose your path. But in the end, you’ll come home.”

He backed away from the cage, resting a hand on Jacob’s shoulder before he left. “You’ve done well.”

Jacob nodded in acknowledgement as Joseph departed, and he wound up the music box once again. “You heard him,” he said, “Only you.”


	2. Leap of Faith

Jordan sat on the overturned crate, wiping the mud off his machine gun with the lower fabric of his off-white cable knit sweater. Jacob’s outposts always seemed to be coated in mud and grime—John kept his holdings immaculate.

As he polished the rifle, he saw two feet appear on the ground in front of him, clad in glossy black boots. Jordan looked up at the face of the Father gazing down upon him, his lips pursed.

Jordan stood, facing him. “Yes, Father?”

“I have a task for you, my son,” he said, placing a hand on the back of Jordan’s shoulder and guiding him along, walking at his side, “The deputy has left this place.”

“She escaped?” Jordan asked, bewildered.

“I allowed her to go,” Joseph said.

Jordan stopped in his tracks, looking at him with confusion. To his knowledge, the Seeds had _never_ let a hostage go. They were either kept until they were broken in, or until they were killed. Jordan couldn’t find the words, and Joseph just smiled.

“It’s okay, my son,” Joseph said, “You are allowed to ask questions.”

“I would never doubt you, Father,” Jordan responded, “But why?”

“With the Collapse coming,” Joseph began to explain, “There are many things being set into motion that were always meant to happen. Many of these things are tests.”

“Tests…” Jordan repeated carefully, trying to make sense of it.

“For all of us,” Joseph continued, “For you. For John. For the sinners. Even for me.”

“And my test,” Jordan cautioned, “Is to find Adrianna?”

Joseph was silent for a moment, just studying Jordan’s face. “You know her better than anyone,” he said, “John tells me you have a vested interest in bringing her into the family.”

All the things he had imagined—drowning her in the river, putting her on a roadside pike, having her brain fried with Bliss until she was a mindless Angel.

“Yes,” Jordan said.

“I want you to track her,” Joseph said, “She will eventually find her way home.”

“But… you don’t want me to capture her?”

“No,” Joseph said, “She will try to fight us. She will even kill some of our most loyal. But the most important thing is—” he placed a hand on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning in close, until their foreheads were almost touching, “Make sure no harm comes to her.”

Jordan nodded slowly. “Yes, Father.”

Adrianna trudged on up the hillside. She ditched the four-wheeler she had hijacked a few miles back—too much Peggy activity going on on the sides of the roads. The ambience had changed—as the mountains flattened into the hills, there were more signs with welcoming messaging. Fields of white flowers fluttered in the cool Montana breeze.

She knew the smart thing to do would be to go to the prison, where she had picked up a distress signal from the sheriff. But that’s not who she wanted to see.

She was after Faith.

She knew the Peggies had set up some sort of pilgrimage around the river region up to the hunk of concrete they had erected on Angel Peak. And she was going to find that path. And she was going to find Faith.

And then she would put that bitch in the ground.

Faith, when she was Rachel Jessop, had grown up with her. She fondly remembered beers thrown back in the shed behind Rachel’s family’s greenhouse, rides through the Whitetails with the music high and the windows rolled down, and summers spent at Sacred Skies. Rachel was her friend. Faith was a monster.

All of a sudden there was the sound of distant shouts coming from up past the trees.

“Watch out it’s a goddam cougar!”

Adrianna’s ears perked up as she heard the signature snarl of a mountain lion, and then a dying scream—as she can only imagine the animal sunk its teeth into her victim’s neck.

She picked up the pace—jogging up the cliff to where she saw a good view of what was a campsite. The cougar was lunging at a man—and taking a closer look, the man was dressed in that signature shade of Peggy mayonnaise.

The cultist gripped his rifle in his hand, flipping it around and bashing the cougar on the head, sending her coiling back and hissing loud. As the cougar was recumbent, the cultist flipped around his shotgun, taking deadly aim.

Adrianna didn’t think so. She fired from behind the brush, smoke rising from the barrel as the cultist fell backwards. The cougar snarled a little, her shoulders raising as she slunk her head around and looked at Adrianna.

She put out a flat palm.

“Easy, there,” she said tentatively, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The cougar’s snarls morphed into something approaching a purr as she padded her paws along the forest floor towards Adrianna.

“You’re alright, girl.”

The cougar looked up at her with her big brown eyes before finally nudging her head under her palm, allowing her to pet her. Adrianna lowered to one knee, getting on her level.

“Good girl,” Adrianna cooed, and gazed up the path at an old red building with a sign on top, “That’s the taxidermy place—you must be Peaches. You all alone out here?”

Peaches hummed, her entire body vibrating.

“That’s okay,” Adrianna said, “So am I. Why don’t you stick with me, girl?”

Peaches stuck out her long tongue and gave Adrianna a wet, sandpaper-like lick.

“Atta girl.”

Jordan had his binoculars situated on top of the rock, aiming down at where Adrianna was walking the Path, her boots trudging along the scattered white petals. No trouble yet—Adrianna had proven herself to be quite the sneak. She had apparently gotten a cougar though, which Jordan had watched maul _several_ people. Typical.

Jordan remembered when he had walked the Path. It was one of his most formative experiences in the cult.

Faith was always good to him, even before she was Faith. Jordan could remember his first days in the cult, waking up in a daze after having a patch of flesh ripped from his right forearm. He had passed out just as he watched John staple it to the wall. He had awoken with a start on the cot, his bloodied shirt having been peeled from him and tossed aside.

“Shhh,” the young woman said, applying a wet towel to it. His ears rang with a sort of distorted hum. “Pain is part of your atonement. But it goes away.”

“Ahhh,” Jordan had groaned as she tended the wound, “I prefer the tattoos.”

“John doesn’t always do it this way,” she said, “Only when the sinner is resistant.” She watched Jordan steady his breathing, eyes trained upwards to the ceiling. “What was your sin?”

“This one was Pride.”

“Mm,” the girl hummed, “The primary sin.” Her hand trailed up to his bare chest, which was still slightly tender and red from the fresh tattoo—spelling out _ENVY_ just under his collarbones.

“John speaks highly of you,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve gone through the atonement with more courage than anyone he’s seen,” she told him, and then smirked, “But don’t tell him I told you that.”

Jordan smiled, weakly through the searing pain. “Thanks. I won’t”.

The girl smiled back. “My name is Rachel.”

He was sort of enjoying the silence when his radio crackled on his hip.

“Are you coming home tonight, orrrrrr…”

Jordan laughed, unhooking his radio from his belt and responding. “ _Hi,_ John.”

“Where are you?”

“The Henbane. Few clicks north of the prison.”

Jordan listened as he heard John sigh impatiently.

“Joseph told me to keep an eye on her.”

“But for how long?” John asked, “I need you here, in the Valley.”

“Well your brother needs me watching the Path,” Jordan said, “You really want to challenge him?”

“I just—”

“Just what? Miss me?”

“Just don’t be long,” John said shortly, and then crackled off of the radio.

Jordan sighed, rubbing at his chest with a bit of an amused grin on his face. Envy was not his sin alone.

He watched Adrianna as her pace slowed. Her gait was faltering. She had passed several fields of Bliss flowers. The effects were pronounced along the Path—Faith had made sure of that.

He switched radio frequencies as he watched her hit the ground.

“She’s down. The flowers got to her.”

There was silence for a few seconds. But then another voice came onto the frequency.

“Bring her into the Bliss,” Faith said.

Adrianna’s eyes barely fluttered open into the pale green mist—dew glistening on the grass around her. A white butterfly took off from her hand where her palm was planted into the soft soil. She began to rise, and came face to face with Faith Seed.

“Welcome to the Bliss.”

Adrianna squinted, struggling to focus. “Rachel.”

Faith just continued to smile. “Rachel was weak. She was sick. Confused. Scared,” she said, “But then the Father took her in. Made her into something special.”

“Oh yeah, you’re _special_ alright.”

Faith frowned, pursing the corners of her lips. “I know you think we took from you. Your friends. Your home. But to us— _you_ took those things. Your pride and greed have misled you.”

“Us?” Adrianna asked, “Who’s _us_?”

Jordan stepped out of the mist, the bright ambient light reflecting off of his blonde hair. “If you won’t do it for me,” he said, “Then do it for Faith.”

“You’re both insane,” Adrianna said, “None of this is real—Jordan, you’re just brainwashed by John. And you—” she turned to Faith, “You’re just a filthy junkie under your stupid doily dress.”

Faith’s expression changed, now looking at Adrianna with a glare of rage. “You want to see what’s _real,_ Adrianna?” She snatched her hand, pulling her faster than humanly possible—seeming to fly with Adrianna in tow. When her surroundings slowed from a blur, Adrianna saw she was standing on a large white stone platform shaped like an open book. She was on the statue of Joseph—the sky still a pale green mist, the Father’s face jutting out above her. Faith stood at the edge.

“So much is available to you, Adrianna,” Faith said, “All it takes is a little faith.” She spread her arms out and tipped backwards over the edge, out of sight for a moment before she rose back up, shrouded in white wings.

Jordan’s hand enclosed on the back of Adrianna’s collar, taking her towards the ledge. “Take the leap,” he said.

“I know what’s real,” Adrianna said, “You can’t break me like this.”

“I know,” Jordan responded, “Take the leap. See what you find. And then come back to me and tell me what’s real.”

Before Adrianna could protest, Jordan pushed her—she felt the wind rush by her face as she plummeted down into the mist, her vision going white.

Her vision came into focus slowly as she kneaded her fingers into the soft earth below her. She felt no pain—and though she was trying to fight it, she had to admit the mist brought her an overwhelming sense of peace.

She was laying on her back, and as the mist cleared, she saw Joseph knelt above her—shirtless as he was when they had come to arrest him, the mist seeming to condense into a glistening dew along his collarbones.

She quickly tried to get up, but Joseph’s firm hand pushed her back down by her shoulder.

His head slowly tilted as he spoke, as if he was trying to take her in from every angle. “Tell me,” he said, “Does this feel real to you?”

“I—”

“My hand on you,” he said, “Does it feel real?”

“Yes,” Adrianna said, becoming flustered, “Where am I? Really?”

“The Bliss.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“The Bliss is not a physical place,” Joseph said, “It is a spiritual one. Until the Bliss is made reality after the Collapse.”

“And how do you know this Collapse is really coming?”

Joseph’s mouth curled a little. “God told me.”

“Sure.”

“It doesn’t take a prophet to see what’s happening to the world,” Joseph said, beginning to rub his thumb along her collarbone, “We are on the brink. But I can offer you sanctuary. You can join me in the Garden that is to come.”

Adrianna’s breathing slowed and picked up all at once. “It’s not real,” she said—this time less defiant, almost sadly, “It’s just not. I wish it were so simple, I really do, Joseph.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at the sound of her saying his name. His heart raced in his chest.

“It is real,” Joseph said, slowly beginning to unbutton her shirt, one button at a time, “As real as this.”

“Joseph—”

“You want this,” he said.

She did. It was crazy. But she did.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him just as he was about to undo her jeans, sitting up a little to face him. “You can’t do this to me,” she said, “It won’t work.”

Joseph frowned, calmly placing her hand aside and continuing to unbutton her jeans. “Why do you hate me?”

Adrianna was stunned, a moan escaping her lips as Joseph’s hand plunged into her pants.

“You—” she struggled to speak, “You’ve taken _everything_.”

“Only because,” he said, finally reaching a finger into her wet pussy, causing her to buck her hips and gasp, “I can give you _so much more than you ever had_.”

Adrianna clawed at the soil, Joseph’s touch inside of her was rough and gentle all at once—unbelievably heavy and light—soothing and pressing all at once.

He leaned down to her, continuing to finger her, and whispered in her ear.

“You can continue to fight me,” he said, “But you can’t deny that what I’m telling you is true.”

“I—” Adrianna was a wreck, her senses completely saturated, “You’re a liar. It’s what you do.”

Joseph raised his head a little to look her in the eye. This is where the fear kicked in. It was an unfamiliar feeling to him. Many of the feelings she brought on were. But the thing he was most afraid of— _she wasn’t afraid of him at all._ “I would never lie to you.”

She looked back at him biting her lip as he trailed his tongue across his lips. Now he had gained the high ground for sure. He gave her pussy one last good thrust, bottoming out and making her cry out as he dove his face into the nape of her neck, taking a deep whiff of her hair, biting softly at the tender flesh of her throat.

“You will come home,” he whispered into her ear, “Soon enough, you will come home.”

He pulled out of her, and she exhaled deeply as he dissolved into the mist—the pale green light softening into the bright sunrays streaming through the tall trees.


	3. Wrath

Adrianna pressed the pedal to the floor, the engine of the truck flooding as she raced down the road—her elbow resting on the lowered window, her handgun whipping in the wind.

In a fit of rage, she fired a few holes through one of Faith’s dumbass “Welcome to the Bliss” signs as she raced north. She had to get away from that stuff. She wouldn’t let them get the upper hand on her like that ever again.

Her anger poured out from the pit in her stomach—something was balled up within her and she couldn’t tell what it was. Guilt? Sorrow? Longing? All she knew was she didn’t understand it and that pissed her off.

And she needed to see Joseph again.

The Veterans’ Home loomed darkly against the mountains on the northern edge of the county. The truck came to a screaming halt and Adrianna got out, handgun cocked, marching to the gate.

“Come on out, Jacob!” she called out, “We’ve got business.”

One of the towers of speakers set up around the building crackled to life, emitting high feedback before the strains of _Only You_ filled the air.

Her vision went red and her steps became staggered as she collapsed to the ground.

The trees were cast in long shadows by the truck headlights illuminating the wooded clearing, the light dancing in the shallow waters of the riverbank.

Jordan dumped a barrel of Bliss into the water, watching it spread a green mist across the surface, wisping around where the lower part of his jeans were submerged. John stood in the clearing, Book of Joseph in hand. There were three captives from Fall’s End on their knees in the river, and as John nodded his head, they were dunked under by his men.

“We must wash away our past,” John said, loud enough that those being baptized might hear him under the water, “We must expose our sins.”

The captives were lifted up and lead towards the shore—soaking wet and catching their breaths. Jordan watched with scornful eyes as the hostage bringing up the rear gagged on the water—Mary May Fairgrave. She was the barkeep in Fall’s End, and had been a consistent nuisance. She had a number of run-ins with John and Jordan, even before the reaping had begun.

“We must atone,” John continued, “For only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his gate unto Eden.” He smeared something on the forehead of the first two hostages as they were carried to the vans, but then stopped when faced with Mary May, holding a hand out.

“Not this one,” he said, “This one’s unclean.”

He practically tackled her, shoving her under the water and feeling her thrash in his arms, desperate for air.

Jordan watched, amused at first—but his expression turned solemn when his eyes panned across the clearing, and he saw Joseph standing in front of the trucks.

John yanked Mary May from the water as she gasped for air.

“Fuck you,” she managed.

“Ahhh,” John said, clicking his tongue, laughing a little, “Shhhh.”

He was just about to plunge her beneath the water when he was cut off.

“You mock the cleansing, John?”

John turned slowly to face his brother. “No, Joseph—”

“Shh,” Joseph quickly cut him off, “You have to love them, John. Do not let your sin prevent that.”

Jordan felt a lump in his throat. He could only imagine what John was feeling.

“Bring her to me,” Joseph commanded. The cultist who had her restraints brought her forward, face to face with him. Mary May was seething with rage, but the Bliss in the water was beginning to take effect, placating her.

“Despite all that you have done,” Joseph said, “You are not beyond salvation. You are being given a gift. It is up to you whether to embrace it, or cast it aside.” He backed away from her, nodding to the cultist to proceed to the van with her.

“She will reach the Atonement,” Joseph said, pressing his forehead to John’s, “Or Eden’s Gate will be shut to you, John.”

John just looked at him, at a loss for words—his brows drawn over his blue eyes, trying to hold back his emotions.

“Go, John,” Joseph said. Jordan began to follow, but Joseph stopped him—placing a hand on his shoulder. Joseph was silent, waiting for John to hop in one of the trucks and be driven away.

“Yes, Father?” Jordan finally said.

Joseph looked at him sadly. “John is consumed by sin,” he said, “After all the atonements, all the confessions—everything he has done. It’s still not enough.”

Jordan only looked back at Joseph, stunned and confused.

“He needs to cast away his past,” Joseph said, “And see that there is love all around him.” He looked fondly at Jordan, gently patting him on the shoulder.

“I do love John,” Jordan said.

“I know,” Joseph responded, “But he needs to open up his heart and see that. All the pain and suffering he spreads will not help us in the long run.”

“I understand.”

“But not just for our Family,” Joseph said, “For John—these actions will only feed the sin inside him. It will grow stronger. It will convince him to do wicked things. Those he scars too deeply, they will heal. They will become carriers of _his_ sin.”

Jordan felt a pit in his stomach. Did Joseph see him as a carrier of John’s sin?

“Why are you telling me this?” Jordan asked.

Joseph pursed his lips. “I have seen his death in a vision,” he said, “He is destined to be slain by his own sin. It’s only a matter of when.”

Tears began to well up in Jordan’s eyes. “When?”

“I’ve seen him die young,” Joseph said, “I’ve seen him die old. The difference between the two outcomes is whether he chooses to love.”

Jordan’s head was reeling. Did John love him?

“I hope he learns before it is too late,” Joseph said, “I want to see him die an old man, in the Paradise we’ve prepared for.”

A tear rolled down Jordan’s cheek. “So do I.”

“Then you know what you must do.”

Jordan nodded slowly. “Yes, Father.”

Her eyes slowly blinked open as she sat up, face to face with Jacob—sitting on a rock, whittling away at a stick with his knife.

“Of all the things I thought you’d do when we let you go,” he said, “I never thought you’d come back.”

Adrianna stood. “I need Joseph. Where is he?”

Jacob laughed a little, spitefully. “He doesn’t wanna see _you,_ ” he said, “Way things are going, you’re never going to see him again.”

She felt a pang in her chest—she wasn’t sure what it was, but it materialized as anger. “That doesn’t work for me.”

“And what’re you gonna do?” Jacob said, hopping off the rock, “What is it that you want with him?”

Adrianna clenched her jaw, Jacob circled her the way a wolf circles its prey. “I just want answers.”

“Answers, huh?” Jacob said, leaning in close and breathing her in deeply, “You sure that’s _all_ you want?”

“Yes,” Adrianna resolved.

“Heh,” Jacob laughed gruffly, “You know, I can read you like a goddamn book. I know what you want,” he came face to face with her, “Even if you don’t.”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me.”

“Yeah? Well why don’t we just get you back in the chair, see what we can find out.”

Fuck that. Adrianna swatted at his left hand, knocking the knife from his grip and sending it skidding across the rocks towards the edge of a cliff. He pushed her to the ground with his large hands, and once she fell, she probed at her hips, looking for her handgun.

Jacob chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Fuck that, too. Adrianna leapt up, launching herself at him, hands around his neck. He tried to break free, but she had an iron grip on him, beginning to dig her nails into the skin of his throat. He finally shook her loose, but that only gave her the opportunity to land a swift punch to his mouth, causing him to grab his jaw and double over.

She breathed heavily as she watched him, spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the rocks and looking back up at her ruefully. He rushed her, tackling her to the ground and landing a punch right to the face. She yanked and pulled at his shirt, trying to push him off of her as they rolled a few yards over towards the cliff.

Jacob came out of the struggle on top, getting her pinned under his legs as he towered above her and placed a hand around her neck—just one hand being large enough to enclose around her entire throat and cut off her windpipe.

She struggled for air, and in a last moment of desperation, she bit the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and index finger, latching on as she tasted her mouth filling with blood.

“Gah, bitch!” He removed his hand from her mouth, shaking it off in pain before leaning over to quickly grab his knife. He rolled her over on her stomach, her head hanging off of the cliffside at the severe drop below. He held the knife to her neck.

“The weak must be sacrificed,” he said, steadying his grip on the knife handle.

“Jacob.” A stern voice patched through the radio on Jacob’s hip. He sighed, picking it up.

“Yes, brother?”

“Enough,” Joseph said, “Let her go.”

Jacob exhaled slowly, as if disappointed. Adrianna was still breathing heavy under him, and he unstraddled her and let her roll over.

“You heard the boss,” he said, “Get the hell out of here.”

Adrianna just glowered up at him, filled with rage. Then, in a moment of instinct, she grabbed the radio from him, standing up.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” she shouted into the radio. Jacob stood back, just watching. “YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME. YOU COME OUT AND FACE ME, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”

Jacob shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Like I said. He doesn’t wanna see you,” he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his arm, “Better luck next time, sweetcheeks.”

Adrianna was shaking at this point, her anger giving way to tears. She had to get out of there. With a cry of rage, she chucked the radio over the cliffside, watching it fly down into the trees below.

And she ran, leaving Jacob behind, blood still dribbling from his lips.

Jordan had long since fallen asleep waiting up for John, the warm glow of the fireplace washing over him as he dozed on the couch. He was awoken by the door slamming, hard and loud.

He perked up quick, seeing John looming in the doorway, a dark expression over his face.

“John,” Jordan said, standing, “How late is it?”

John just glared at him. “They got away,” he snarled.

Jordan blinked. “They got away?”

“Mary fucking May and the others,” John said, “They ambushed our van. They overtook our people at the western checkpoint.”

“And the gate?” Jordan asked quickly.

“They can’t get into the gate,” John said slowly, clenching his teeth.

“You don’t need to be angry with me, John—”

“I don’t?!” he snapped, “What did Joseph say to you?”

Jordan’s blood ran cold. “He told me,” he said, making up a lie, “That I did well bringing Adrianna to him in the Henbane.”

John stepped to him slowly, running his hand down his cheek, tracing his jawline. “Oh, Jordan,” he said, smiling softly, “I can tell when you’re lying.”

John kissed him slowly, before pressing hard into a pressure point above Jordan’s shoulder and putting him down on his knees.

“Now,” he said, “Will you Confess?”

Jordan looked up at him. “John, I have nothing to—”

John slapped him hard across the face with the back of his hand, knocking him over to all fours.

“Let’s try again,” John said, “Will you Confess?” Jordan still hesitated, breathing heavily. “It’s just one word.”

Jordan turned his head and glared up at John. “Yes.”

“Good,” John said, “Get up.”

Jordan obeyed, rising to his feet, letting John put an arm around him and guide him to the couch. He seated Jordan there, and then walked over to the fire—his lean frame silhouetted in the flames.

“Tell me.”

“I lied to you,” Jordan said, “Joseph spoke to me about you.”

“And said what?”

Jordan gritted his teeth. “You should ask him.”

John turned, hands in his pocket, looking intently at Jordan. “I’m asking _you._ ”

“He told me,” Jordan began slowly, tears forming, “That you are consumed by sin. That you need to learn how to love.”

John cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Do _you_ think I don’t know how to love?”

Jordan’s lip quivered a little. “I don’t—”

John bent down, hands on his knees, “You don’t know?!” he laughed.

“I don’t know why Joseph would think that!” Jordan blurted out.

“Joseph does not see the sacrifices that must be made for our family,” John said, “He told me to take them all, even if they resist.”

“He just told you to take them,” Jordan said, “Not torture them.”

“But you should know,” John said, “Without pain, there is no Atonement. And these sinners must Atone.”

Jordan sat silently.

“Joseph is showing weakness,” John said, “He fears retaliation—it has nothing to do with _loving_ them, it has everything to do with making them _submit._ And trust me, they _will_ submit.”

Jordan’s head was spinning. This was a mistake. He was going to openly defy the will of the Father.

“Tomorrow, I will send my faithful to Fall’s End,” he continued, “And they will burn it to the ground.”

“John—”

John held a hand up. “Shh. And _you_ will know your purpose.”

“John, I—”

He reached into a metal canister by the fireplace, pulling out a long metal rod with Eden’s Cross emblazoned on the end of it in cast iron. He stuck the end into the base of the fireplace, rotating it a little.

“You will prove your worth,” John said, “By going to Fall’s End.”

“John,” Jordan said gently, “This is a mistake. They’re better armed than we think—if we push them, they’ll push back. And if they push back hard enough, we will lose _everything_ we have worked for.”

“We will lose nothing,” John retorted, pulling the branding iron out of the fire, the end glowing red hot, “And you will never doubt me again.”

He walked closer, Jordan bracing himself on the couch—but knowing better than to run. John straddled his lap, lowering himself as he gripped the branding iron towards the base, using his other hand to unbutton the top of Jordan’s shirt.

“John—”

“Consider this not only your Atonement. But also a reminder,” John plunged the brand into Jordan’s chest, just above the _Y_ in _ENVY,_ “That you belong to _me_.”

Jordan cried out, squeezing John’s arm hard as the brand singed into his flesh.

“Yes, John,” he said, “ _Yes._ ”

Adrianna hunched on the ledge overlooking the convent. This was one of the last stops on Faith’s path. She had been hesitant to come back to the Henbane, but thus far, it didn’t seem like Faith knew she was there. At least, not that she was letting on.

She watched them shamble about, some of them Blissed out of their minds. Some of them armed and dangerous. After rubbing at her still-sore black eye, she steadied her gaze through the scope of her sniper rifle, laying flush against the ridge. She took aim at one of the red gasoline barrels sitting in the gardens.

“Fire in the hole.”

She pulled the trigger, sending a bullet flying towards the barrel. A bright orange explosion lit up the garden, sending several Peggies flying like rag-dolls.

“Alright, sic’ em, Peaches.” The cougar snarled in agreement, beginning to bound down the hill towards the convent. Adrianna took a few more shots, blowing up more of the gasoline barrels—much of the white wood latticing surrounding the gardens up in flames.

Adrianna took the shooting glove off her left hand with her teeth, ditching her sniper rifle for her trusty sidearm. She roved down the hill, dirt moving fast beneath her feet.

As she reached the main chapel of the convent, one of the Peggies came screaming out in flames towards her, and she fired a few shots into his head—sending him rolling on the ground, consumed by fire.

She went to the pulpit, knocking over the podium and sending books flying. She pulled the Molotov cocktail that was strapped to her belt and lit it, throwing it into the center of the pews, lighting them aflame. With the fire cracking behind her, she proceeded out into the more open inferno of the gardens. Peaches was just bringing down the last Peggy, when Adrianna heard a familiar sound.

The harsh roar of the propellers echoed through the air as a chopper crested the ridge, hovering in place and beginning to spin its guns. As it fired, Adrianna tucked and rolled, ducking down behind one of the stone walls. Peering carefully around the corner, she spotted a mounted gun placed atop some crates.

The firing stopped momentarily, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before the helicopter would spin up another payload. She sprinted quickly to the gun, bracing herself on it and loading it up.

Before long, it was spitting bullets, making her shake as she panned it over towards the chopper.

The helicopter was just spinning up, but Adrianna filled the cockpit with shrapnel, watching the limp body of the pilot fall out as the entire aircraft spun out, the whir of the propellers dipping sharply as it plummeted over the side of the cliff, exploding at the bottom.

Adrianna tromped out in front of the convent, facing the open road, the entire structure hissing with flames behind her. She threw her arms out to the side.

“Well?!” she called out, “Come and get me!”

There was only silence in response, her voice echoing against the hills.

“COME AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN BEFORE I BURN YOUR WHOLE SHIT DOWN!”

Still there was only silence. Just the birds chirping and the flames crackling. Until there was a voice.

“I was like you once. A rat in a maze, always chasing the same wedge of rancid cheese…”

Adrianna pulled her handgun, whirling around. There was no one—just Peaches, slinking over one of the walls of the garden.

“Get out of my head,” she said.

“You come here seeking something you cannot have,” Faith said, “You are _lost_.”

“The only thing I _seek_ is your head on a plate.”

“If violence is the only language you choose to speak,” Faith responded, “I’ll speak your language.”

“I just want to see Joseph,” Adrianna pleaded, “Please. I need answers.”

Faith only laughed. “Oh, Adrianna. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice?...” her voice trailed off.

Adrianna kept looking around for her. “Fool me twice _, what,_ Faith?! What does that even mean!”

“The Path to Eden has not closed to you,” Faith said, “Walk the Path. Join us in the garden.”

“I just want to see Joseph,” Adrianna said, “Please, Rachel. For me.”

“You must walk the Path alone,” Faith said, “Only then you’ll see.”

Her voice faded away, and there was nothing but silence.

Jordan rubbed at his chest, the burn still fresh and red and stinging. He pulled his leather bomber jacket over his white shirt which had the emblem of Eden’s Gate emblazoned on it in red. He stood in the road as the trucks passed him, cultists posted at the mounted guns.

He spoke into his radio. “The attack has begun.”

John’s voice patched in. “Good.” He had barely spoken a word to him the night before, after his atonement. Jordan had just laid on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the cool air hit his burn.

He watched ahead as the trucks barreled in, taking their positions on the main street. The gunfire commenced. John had no intentions of saving these people. This was supposed to be a massacre. Joseph would not be pleased.

Another voice came in on his radio, “Watch it, watch it, they’ve got air support coming in from the south!”

Jordan turned to the sky in disbelief. Air support? Who the—

Sure enough, Nick Rye came sweeping down over the street in that horrible mustard-yellow plane, raining fire down the street. The fiery explosions crested the tops of the buildings. Jordan knew the trucks were toast.

“Son of a bitch.” Jordan cocked his LMG. “We’ve got a problem,” he said into his radio, “Goddamn Nick Rye is strafing us, they’ve got air support—I need the Chosen.”

“Get in there,” John said, “Finish the job.”

Jordan shook his head, beginning to advance into the town. Several locals popped out of the auto shop, and Jordan quickly dispensed them with a barrage of lead. He squinted past the burnt out shells of the trucks, to the general store—to the mounted gun on top. That was his only chance of taking down that plane.

He moved quickly, trying to stick behind the cars—ducking behind one of them as Nick swooped back down for a strafing run, listening to the lead clank against the metal and asphalt.

Once the plane had whizzed by overhead, he made a beeline for the general store, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder to the mounted gun. Nick’s plane listed left, making an approach from the east—head on towards Jordan.

“John,” Jordan said into his radio, “This is for you, baby.”

He gripped the mounted gun and began to fire, he yelled out as the plane swooped in.

“AAAAAHHHHH.”

He had to be hitting it, he just had to. But his aim got closer and closer as the plane did, swooping in low as Jordan used all his strength to center the gun towards the center of the plane’s front rotary.

He watched as a compartment opened on the bottom of the plane—canisters falling out the bottom. He stopped firing.

“Oh, sh—”

The last bomb in the line fell on the front awning of the store, sending Jordan flying back off the other end of the building, landing in the field out back with a thud. The last thing he saw was Nick Rye’s bright yellow place whiz overhead before his vision went completely black.

Adrianna sat in a hunting blind, her leg dangling from the edge, cigarette burning bright through the cool evening. Her radio sat at her side, picking up chatter.

“We held them off from Fall’s End,” Mary May’s voice said, “Thanks to Nick Rye.”

“Aw,” Nick’s voice came through, “That was nothin’.”

“This’ll bring out John for sure,” Jerome’s voice said.

“And we got John’s little boy-toy out of the picture,” Mary May said, “He won’t have Jordan around no more to protect him.”

“Hell yeah,” Nick said, “Where’s ol’ Johnny-boy now?”

“We’re not sure,” Mary May said, “But we’ll bet he’s having second thoughts right about now.”

Adrianna clicked off the radio. Something in her chest lurched that Jordan may be dead—but he was resilient. If it was an air attack, he probably managed to find a way out of it. Nick Rye was known to be overly confident.

But John had just taken a major blow. He would be shaken. Have his guard down.

That was her way to Joseph.


	4. The Quality of Mercy

She felt eyes on her all the time. Maybe the Bliss still had her jittery, even as she moved west into the valley. Maybe she was paranoid.

Or maybe he was watching.

That was the only thought in her mind as she slipped her shirt off her shoulders, reaching around and unhooking her bra, letting the cool breeze hit her bare chest. Her pants were next, sloughing off onto the riverside, baring herself in the quiet clearing.

From a nearby hunting platform, Joseph’s breath caught in his throat as he held his binoculars in trembling hands.

She walked slowly into the water, letting her fingertips trace the surface of the water, creating little ripples behind her. She let her eyes float shut as she submerged herself in the cool waters—cupping her hands and splashing it across her face.

His already-tight jeans tightened just the slightest bit more as he shifted uncomfortably from his perch. He could barely stand to see her so exposed, so bare, so—

_So fertile._

He bit his bottom lip hard and lowered the binoculars, looking up to the sky, pleading to God to deliver him from this temptation. It was as if the word _LUST_ carved into his back stung like it was a fresh wound. She was not his to see in this way.

Not yet, anyway.

She spread her arms and laid back into the river, her brown hair spooling around her head as she felt the cool waters lapping over her. An intrusive thought entered her head—that Joseph would come bounding out of the trees while she was in her prone state. For a moment, that filled her with anxiety—a lurching feeling in her throat like someone was behind her. But then she felt at peace. She sort of even _hoped_ he would see her like this. Show him what he was avoiding.

_No._ She couldn’t think like that. Joseph had destroyed her home. Taken her friends. Played her like a fiddle. He needed to pay.

There would be an atonement.

Joseph took one last glance through his binoculars, before scurrying down the ladder to the hunting post and retreating into the forest—seeking a quiet spot to pray. To ask for forgiveness.

John squinted as he saw sparks float around him—the air was thick with Bliss in Faith’s bunker. He struggled as he pushed one of her angels out of the way, barreling towards the medical bay.

Faith appeared in front of him, standing her ground—shoulders set wide and glaring up at him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

“Faith, please,” he said breathlessly, “I need to see him.”

Faith lowered her brow. “You nearly _killed_ him.”

“I need to see him!” John snapped.

“He’s in the Bliss now,” Faith said, “He is at peace. You have no right to take that away from him.”

“How hurt is he?”

Faith hesitated. “He’ll be okay,” she said, “Week or so, he’ll be back in fighting shape.”

“Is he angry?” John asked.

“He didn’t say,” Faith responded.

“Please, Faith,” John said, “I just need to see him.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Faith looked at him solemnly. She turned to spin the hatch door into the infirmary, and John saw Jordan—laid out in a bed, Bliss flowers laid on the pillow. Just beyond him, dimly lit in the light of the bunker, was Joseph—knelt over Jordan, praying. He looked up at the sound of the door entering.

John’s voice nearly caught in his throat. “Joseph.”

Joseph stood. “Brother.”

“I didn’t know you were—”

“I care for my flock,” Joseph said, “When one of them is hurt, I am there to be their strength.”

John stepped to the bed, looking down at Jordan’s face—cut up in a line from his left cheek to his right temple. He brushed a tuft of Jordan’s hair off of his forehead, fixing it back. Joseph just watched him.

“He told me what you said to him,” John said.

Joseph just stared back. “He loves you, John.”

John pursed his lips. “I know.”

“The question is—are you able to _accept_ that love?”

John just stared back. “I have shown Jordan _nothing_ but—”

“Enough,” Joseph cut him off, softly yet firmly, “I have seen the brand on his chest. I know he put himself in harm’s way on your command.”

“He lied to me,” John replied, “He had to atone.”

“ _No,_ John,” Joseph asserted, “ _You_ are the one who needs atonement. Jordan has done his. All while you are so consumed by your own sin that you hurt even those closest to you. Even those who would do _anything_ to earn your love—and you still inflict nothing but pain and suffering.”

John was speechless. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt—a guilt that surfaced from time to time, one he wished he could cut away like a cancer—purging it from his soul. “

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally managed.

“Your sin nearly destroyed him. He who is one of our most faithful. You should thank God that He allowed Jordan to live. Because if it were up to me—” Joseph stepped in close, “I would have taken him away from you.”

Joseph strode out of the room, leaving John alone. He sadly stroked the side of Jordan’s face as Jordan moaned a little, fluttering his eyes open.

Through the fog of Bliss, he saw John’s blue eyes piercing through, looking down at him.

“John—”

“Hey, shhh,” John soothed, rubbing his thumb over his temple.

“I’m sorry,” Jordan whispered.

“Don’t be,” John responded, “For what?”

“I failed you,” Jordan said, “I’ll atone.”

“No,” John said, “You won’t.”

Jordan smiled weakly up at him, and his eyes fluttered back closed.

Adrianna crept across the wood-planked floor, just after she had slunk through the window into the master bedroom. She could see John’s outline under the covers, silhouetted in the moonlight streaming through the window, along with the chandelier of antlers hanging from the ceiling.

There wasn’t a sound all around the chalet. Jess had so kindly dispatched all of John’s goons surrounding the place—and she did it completely silently. The kid was skilled. But once she’d cleared a perimeter, Adrianna told her to piss off.

This was a one-woman job.

Adrianna stood above the bed, watching John breathe steadily. She took a deep breath.

All at once, she pounced on him, flipping him on his stomach and pulling the covers off of him as she straddled him.

“Ah! What the—”

She pulled the rope from her belt, pulling his hands behind his back and tying them together tight, the rope chafing at his wrists.

“Yeah, don’t struggle,” she said as he thrashed beneath her, “We can get this over with a lot faster.” She moved down to his feet, holding his ankles together and binding him there.

“You must be the Deputy I’ve heard so much about,” John mused, grunting at the tightening of the rope, “Jordan’s told me a lot about you.”

“Yeah,” Adrianna responded, “Sorry for your loss.”

“He’s fine,” John said as she flipped him onto his back, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, sinner. But it’s not gonna end well for you.”

Adrianna looked at him dryly. “Don’t you worry about me.” Exerting herself, she picked him up, slinging him over her shoulder and beginning to tromp out of the bedroom with him—dressed only in black briefs, feeling the cool night breeze on his back as she lugged him outside.

Jordan groaned as his eyes panned open, feeling a soft hand on his forehead, gently rubbing at it with her thumb.

“How’s the pain?” Faith asked, looking down at him from where she sat at his bedside. Sparks flew in his vision around her. He took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain in his chest.

“I— yeah. Better I think.”

“Good,” Faith said, “Get more rest. You’ll need your strength.”

Jordan laid his head back on the pillow, but then furrowed his brow, looking around—“John—”

“He left when you fell back asleep,” Faith told him. But something in her voice faltered. It was uneasy. Jordan looked at her with a dire expression.

“Where is he?”

“Jordan—”

“Faith. Tell me.”

“Adrianna has taken him,” Faith replied, “The Father has sent search parties—”

Jordan sat straight up in bed, grunting in pain at the sudden movement. “Taken him? How? From where?”

“The ranch,” Faith said, “She wants the Father to come find them.”

Jordan furrowed his brow. “What, she’s trying to lure him out.”

Faith pursed her lips, displeased. “I’m not sure,” she said, then placing a hand on Jordan’s shoulder, beginning to push him gently back into the bed, “But you need to focus on healing. God will protect John and the Father from the sinners.”

Jordan swatted her hand away, quickly swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing, immediately hunching to one side—favoring one of his legs.

“I have to find him,” he said, “I can’t let Adrianna hurt him.”

“You’re too deep into the Bliss, Jordan,” Faith said, “If you pull yourself out too quickly, you could lose your way.”

“This is personal,” Jordan said, “I know how Adrianna feels about me. She won’t hesitate to use him to hurt me.”

Faith looked at him solemnly. “I don’t think this is about you. Or even about John.”

Jordan lowered his brows. “What happened between Adrianna and Joseph in the Bliss?”

Faith thought for a moment. “I’m not sure,” she said, “But the Father was not the same afterwards. He told me to let her leave in peace.”

“Whatever’s going on,” Jordan said, “I can’t let anything happen to John.”

“You’re not strong enough yet,” Faith told him.

Jordan picked his shotgun up off the bedside table. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Adrianna revved the gas on the four-wheeler, John huffed as he got jerked around from where he was sitting backwards on the quad, hands still tied.

“What _exactly_ are you hoping is gonna happen?” John asked her, speaking over the rev of the engine, “If you wanted to kill me, you would have tried it already.”

“Hey, your whole thing is saying ‘yes’, right?” Adrianna replied, “Why don’t you say ‘yes’ to shutting the fuck up.”

“Quite the mouth on you,” John quipped, “Wonder what it’ll sound like when I have you screaming out the name of your sin, begging for mercy.”

“You’re a sick puppy, huh?” Adrianna scoffed, “Jordan did always know how to pick ‘em.”

“You share his sin,” John said, “ _Envy._ ”

“Huh,” Adrianna snickered, “ _You wish._ ”

“I can sense it,” John told her, “Everything you do _reeks_ of your sin.”

“Who am I envious of?”

“Hmm,” John mused, “I can’t decide. It’s either envy… or _lust._ ”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me.”

“Jordan’s spoken a lot about you.”

“All bad, I assume,” Adrianna kicked her foot to the ground, stopping the quad in a clearing.

John shrugged. “He misses you,” he said, “He won’t admit it. But he does. I think a part of him thinks you’ll atone. Walk the path. Come around.”

“And what do _you_ think?”

“I think you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning.”

Adrianna frowned at him. “Alright, I’m done with you. I knew this would happen” She took a piece of tape from her pocket and forced it over his mouth—the word _NO_ scrawled on it in marker. She picked him up, still hog-tied, and began to lay her trap.

Jordan’s vision was blurring as he shambled through the trees. The Bliss was taking its toll.

 _He is destined to be slain by his own sin,_ Joseph’s voice swam in his head.

“John…” he pushed a cluster of brush out of the way, stumbling down the hill.

_None of this is real, Jordan._

“Adrianna?”

_You will know your purpose._

The green mist was closing in. His head was spinning. As he stumbled into the road, he heard the sound of a truck braking just as his head hit the pavement. Two cultists loomed above him, looking down on him as his eyes shut and his mind quieted.

Adrianna fiddled with her handgun from where she sat on the tree stump, waiting. John was tied from his wrists, hanging from a tree—his torso bare in the glare of the quad headlights, the word _SLOTH_ carved across his chest.

She looked up as headlights blared into the clearing, a white truck stopping—basking the clearing in harsh white light. Two armed cultists got out of the back, and from the passenger seat, Joseph Seed stepped in front of the truck.

Adrianna stood. “You came.”

Joseph raised a hand, trying to ease the tension in the air. “Adrianna. No one needs to get hurt here. We can talk. Whatever you need to know. Just let my brother go.”

Adrianna glanced back at John, who was watching the scene with anticipation.

“You and me, Joseph,” she said, “Alone.”

“Let my brother go first.”

Adrianna glared at him for a moment, but then whirled around—John gasped for air when she ripped the tape off his mouth, and she cut the ties on his wrists—shoving him forward, sending him stumbling towards the truck, retreating behind Joseph.

“Now,” Adrianna said, “You and me.”

Joseph hesitated, but then looked to the two armed guards behind him. “Take John back to his ranch.”

The guards glanced at each other, unsure. “Yes, Father.”

John was ushered into the passenger seat—Adrianna could still see his scowl, his blue eyes burning ruefully through the windshield as the truck shifted into reverse and drove away. Adrianna and Joseph were left alone in the clearing—only the sound of crickets and owls to break the silence. She could see the fear in his eyes—and he saw none in hers.

“You’re a hard man to find, Joseph Seed.”


	5. Know Your Purpose

Jordan’s eyes glazed into consciousness, opening slowly as he wrapped his hands around a warm tin mug—being handed to him by a figure who was pulling up a chair to sit across from him, his legs spread wide over the wooden chair.

“Well hey, punkin’,” Jacob said, “Looks like you finally decided to join us amongst the living.”

“Jacob—” Jordan stammered, “Where—”

“Couple of my hunters picked you up coming out of the Henbane,” Jacob said, leaning in, resting his forearms on his thighs, “What the hell were you doing, kid?”

Jordan took a deliberate sip of the coffee Jacob had given him. “I was going after John.”

“In the Whitetails?”

“I… may have gotten a little turned around.”

“You came out of the Bliss too fast,” Jacob said, “Faith did a number on you.”

“I’m fine.” Jordan said definitively, then looked up and saw Jacob’s doubtful expression.

“Tell me about it,” Jacob said.

“About what?”

Jacob shrugged. “Whatever it is.”

Jordan pursed his lips, looking down at the floor. His face twisted a tinge—almost like he was going to cry, but he managed to get the words out. “I failed John. He asked me to prove myself and I failed.”

Jacob just watched him and nodded slowly.

“I showed weakness,” Jordan said, his voice finally breaking.

Jacob scoffed, almost amused. “You got a _bomb_ dropped on you.”

Jordan just looked back at him, still wearing a pitiful expression.

“Failure isn’t _weakness,_ ” Jacob said, “So yeah—sinner pilot got the upper hand on you. Shit happens. The fact that you faced down a bomber plane— _solo—_ that proves you aren’t weak.”

Jordan continued to avert his gaze. “It’s not just that.”

“What else, then?”

“Joseph spoke with me,” he said, “About John. I have—a lot of responsibility for what happens to him.”

Jacob shook his head. “Nah. John can take care of himself. You can help—but at the end of the day, the only person you’re responsible for,” he pointed a finger directly at Jordan’s chest, “is you.”

“Joseph seems to see me as some sort of—” Jordan searched for the words, “Path to redemption for John.”

Jacob sighed. “John has his issues,” he said, “He’s scared.”

“What do you think he’s scared of?”

“John was never shown a lot of love growing up,” Jacob said, “Joseph and I were the only advocates he had, and when John got sent off— he had no one in his corner. And now he’s having trouble. He thinks any show of compassion is going to make him look weak. And so he resorts to wrath.”

“Look around, Jacob,” Jordan replied, “Compassion? Do you think what we’re doing here—”

“I have _nothing_ but compassion for these folks,” Jacob said firmly, “I’m trying to save them. Make them strong. Turn them into fighters. Not for me. But for them.”

“And John is trying to save people from the Collapse.”

“Difference between me and John is—” Jacob explained, “Everything I do is for them. Some of what John does is for _him._ ”

Jordan was quiet, mulling that over. He couldn’t argue.

“Listen, kiddo,” Jacob said, “You don’t need to worry about it. All you can do for John is be there for him. He’s lucky to have you. You’re one of the best soldiers we have.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so,” Jacob said, “Don’t let what went down in Fall’s End convince you otherwise. Fact that you’re still kicking shows me you’re a tough son of a bitch.”

Jordan laughed. “Coming from the toughest son of a bitch I know.”

Jacob smirked, cocking his head. “You learned from the best.”

Adrianna faced Joseph head on in the clearing. The headlights of her four-wheeler sprawled across in tendrils, the dust settling. Even the crickets began to quiet.

Joseph put his arms out. “Alright. You have me. Now what?”

Adrianna just glared at him, her hand hovering to her holster, resting on her handgun. Joseph simply watched her calmly.

“I should fucking kill you,” she said.

“But you won’t.”

“That’s what _you_ think,” Adrianna snapped, “You shouldn’t have sent your minions away. Wasn’t smart.”

“I trust you.”

The words stopped Adrianna dead in her tracks as she began to lower her gun. “You _what?_ ”

“I trust you,” Joseph repeated steadily, as if he was easing a spooked horse, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me,” Adrianna grumbled.

“It is my gift and my burden,” Joseph replied, “God shows me my path.”

“And I’m part of your… path?”

“Yes.”

Adrianna had her finger just barely hovering over the trigger. “You can’t play these games with me, Joseph. You can’t convince me that you know me.”

“But I do,” he said, “And I have. Ever since we first met. Do you remember? You were broken down on the side of the road, and I—”

“I remember,” Adrianna cut him off quickly, “I wish I’d known what you’d become. I would’ve wasted you right then.”

“Oh, Adrianna,” Joseph said, bridging the distance between them and running the back of his hand down the side of her face, “I wish you knew what _you_ will become.”

“I’m gonna be a hero,” she said, “When I kill you.”

“Then do it,” Joseph said, “If that is your path, I have no right to keep you from following it.”

Adrianna pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple, and his expression remained calm. His blue eyes were wide and inquisitive as they searched hers.

“Follow your path, Adrianna,” Joseph said, “Know your purpose.”

Adrianna breathed sharply through her nose, her rage subsiding. She had thought about nothing but killing this man. But now…

It was hard to tell who initiated, their lips met so quickly, the gun still pressed to his temple. His hands ran up under her shirt, up the side of her hips as he kissed her hungrily—as if it was his first intimate encounter in years.

She gave in as she let his weight overtake her, slumping into the cool dirt beneath her, feeling the grit in her hair as they continued to kiss.

He came out of it, looking down at her breathlessly. He brought a hand to the gun at his temple.

“Do it,” Joseph said, “If killing me is your purpose, then do it.”

Adrianna couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. She bit her lip, hard, looking into his eyes as her hand went limp, allowing the handgun to clatter onto the ground next to her, giving Joseph an opening to dive back in, kissing her with urgency.

She ran her hand down the buttons of her shirt, undoing them as she went, untying his bolo tie with one swift motion. He lumbered over her, his own breath getting ahead of him as he watched her finally break the last of his shirt from under his belt—his shirt and vest now hanging open above her. He lifted himself, straddling her as he slipped them all the way off, revealing his slender, scarred, and tattooed body.

He let out a sharp breath, smirking a little, as if he was proud to let her see him this way. Trailing his teeth across his bottom lip, he grabbed Adrianna’s shirt collar at both sides, ripping it apart with such force that it coaxed a quick moan out of her.

He pinned her wrists to the ground above her head, burying his face into her neck and lightly biting at the tender flesh towards the nape. He hovered himself over the front-clasp of her bra, his blue eyes looking up at her from underneath her mounds.

He took the clasp confidently between his teeth and jerked his head, freeing her breasts from the bra. The straps withered to the ground on either side of her, and he pawed at them with his rough hands as he worked down to her pants—tracing his palms down her hips to get to the button of her jeans. They were quickly off, along with her panties—and she was laid bare for him in the cool moonlit night, her clothes pooled around her.

He undid his own belt, discarding his black jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear. Figured.

Gently, he pushed Adrianna’s knees up until they were hovering above her, exposing her wet pussy. With the headlights still casting long shadows across the darkened clearing, she had only caught a glimpse of Joseph’s cock, but she saw enough to gather that it was fucking _huge._ She took a deep breath, trying to relax her muscles.

She felt the tip first—hard and wide as it prodded at her entrance. Then her breath began to catch in her throat as he inched into her slowly—her pussy stretching to accommodate his girth, bit by bit.

Her breath began to materialize into a moan as he fucked her, slowly, until he bottomed out inside of her and began to buck his hips slowly. He took all the time he needed, and Adrianna was melting beneath him.

“Oh God…” she gasped, “Joseph.”

“Shh,” he coaxed, still fucking her deeply. He watched her breasts heave as her breath steadied, her eyes rolling back and her eyelids fluttering shut as she felt his cock pound her.

He picked up pace, his eyebrows furrowing as he focused hard. He hadn’t indulged like this in a very long time, and he wanted to savor it.

“Is this why you wanted me?” he said, between labored breaths.

Her mind screamed _no._ But her lips said, “ _Yes._ ”

He shoved his cock all the way into her, leaning down and whispering into her ear. “ _Good._ ”

Jordan gently knocked on the back of the bathroom door. John looked over his shoulder from where he sat in the bath tub, letting the tepid water get out all of the dirt and grime from his ride through the woods with the Dep.

“John,” Jordan said, “I thought you were—”

John gave him a tight, close-lipped smile. “What are you doing here?”

“When I heard you’d been taken, I left,” Jordan said, “I didn’t make it far.”

“No?”

“No,” Jordan admitted, “Jacob brought me back here.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Your family’s pretty cool, I guess.” Jordan pulled a wooden chair next to the bath tub, fishing in his pocket for a cigarette and lighting up. “Did she hurt you?”

John sniggered a little. “Just my pride.”

“That’s not hard to do.”

John laughed again, bringing his hand out of the water to hold Jordan’s on top of his shoulder. “How about you. Are you in pain?”

“It hurts to take deep breaths and I’m walking with a hell of a limp,” Jordan said, “But I’m okay.”

“Listen,” John began, “I’m sorry. I acted out of anger. I shouldn’t have sent you into Fall’s End. I won’t put you in danger like that—”

“John,” Jordan cut him off, “It’s fine. I don’t want you to shelter me or play favorites. We’re all a part of this Project. I need to do my part, same as everyone else.”

“I thought I’d lost you,” John said, “And for a second—I thought I deserved it.”

Jordan sighed, taking a long drag of his cigarette, blowing it out the crack in the bathroom window.

“You’re a fuck-up, John Seed,” Jordan said, “We all are. But the strength comes in when we’re ready to admit our fuck-ups.”

“Wow,” John teased, “Well said. You wanna take over for me?”

“Shut up,” Jordan pushed at him, sending the bathwater sloshing.

“But I know. I’m a fuck-up. But I’ll work on it.”

“Good,” Jordan said, “That’s all I ask.”

Adrianna had her head resting in the crook of Joseph’s shoulder, her top swaddled around her like a blanket as she soaked up the warmth of his bare chest breathing under her. He rubbed at her back, humming softly.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.”

Adrianna rolled over, propping her head up on her hand, looking at him. “What are we doing, Joseph?”

“We are each following our Path,” Joseph said.

“Don’t avoid my question,” she responded, “I mean what are we _doing_?”

“What do you mean?”

“I brought you here to kill you. I’ll admit that. But then you got here and—I don’t know what happened.”

“I can’t tell you what happened,” Joseph said, “You need to figure that out for yourself.”

“I don’t hate you, Joseph,” she said, “I don’t. I meet you and I see you for what you are—you’re smart. Sensitive. Maybe a bit lonely. You’re a _good man,_ and I see that. But then I think of what you’ve done—”

“Things that make me… _not_ a good man?”

“Killing? Stealing?” Adrianna replied, “Yeah. Those things.”

“But when you consider the reason—”

“I don’t want to hear your reasoning,” Adrianna said, “What you’ve done to this County—there’s no excuse.”

“What’s coming for this County will be far worse,” Joseph warned.

“And what’s that?”

“The Collapse,” Joseph said, “Everything I do, I do to keep my people safe. And unfortunately the path to Eden will require sacrifices.”

“How do you know this Collapse is coming?”

“Can’t you feel it?” his voice lowered to a whisper, “This world is on the brink—life as we knew it is unsustainable. Soon our world’s sin will consume it entirely.”

“There’s always been sin.”

“But we cleanse ourselves,” he said, “We make ourselves ready for the new world. And _you_ will be a part of that.”

Adrianna sat up. “I don’t think you’re hearing me,” she said, “I don’t think you’re a bad man, I just think you’re _misguided._ ”

Joseph sat up to face her, slowly shaking his head. “You are the misguided one.”

“There’s no _proof,_ ” Adrianna said, raising her voice, “Do you realize the consequences of this if you’re _wrong_?”

“I know,” Joseph said, “But if I didn’t know all of this to be true—do you think I would be doing all of this?”

Adrianna began to button her shirt. “I just feel sad for you, Joseph.”

“You don’t need to.”

“No, I do,” Adrianna said, “It’s such a waste. And people could see this side of you if you would just—”

“What?”

“I don’t—”

“I suggest you seek your own path,” Joseph said, “Go to those you trust. Discern what you believe to be true. When you figure it out, just follow the path home.”

Adrianna finally had herself redressed, looking at where Joseph was sitting cross-legged on the ground. “Next time,” she said, “I won’t be so forgiving.” And she mounted her four-wheeler and rode off into the trees.

John smelled like fresh soap as he crawled over Jordan into bed, lowering down into a kiss, pinning Jordan’s wrists to the pillow. As John’s weight bore into him, Jordan grunted in discomfort. John backed off, looking down at him.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s just—” Jordan said, “My chest still hurts. The rib isn’t fully healed.”

“Oh.” John rolled over onto his back beside Jordan. Jordan was surprised—usually John would take any indication of pain as an opportunity to play some sort of sick power-game.

Jordan rolled over and put his arm over John’s chest, nestling his head into his shoulder. He was just getting comfortable when there was a loud knock at the front door.

John’s head shot up. “Who the hell—”

“Do you want me to get it?”

“No,” John said, “I’ve got it.” John slowly rose out of the bed, padding his feet down the stairs and to the front door. He opened it, and his eyes went wide to see Adrianna standing on the front porch.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly, “Um, is Jordan home?”


End file.
